


WhoLock: The Search

by KingOfHearts709



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock - Fandom, wholock - Fandom
Genre: Spoilers, The Fall - Freeform, The Final Problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 14:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4352954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only she hadn't said so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	WhoLock: The Search

**Author's Note:**

> This probably came from a photoset from Tumblr. xoxo

Sherlock walked down the street, desperate to find the right house. He looked from door to door, deducing who lived there based on key details from the grass in the yard to the items in the windows. He needed to find her because she knew about him. He had seen pictures on the internet. Small notes sent to his blog, The Science of Deduction. He kept it secret from others, of course, as he had no knowledge of this conspiracy whatsoever.  
The street was strangely quiet as he approached a house he thought to be the correct structure. Preparing himself, he clicked the buzzer on the PA speaker.  
“Hello?” a woman’s voice answered.  
“Hi, um... I’m looking for Clara,” Sherlock stated in a fake friendly tone.  
“Speaking.”  
“Do you mind me coming in?”  
“One minute.” A few seconds passed and the live video feed on the PA box showed a woman with straight brown hair and an inquisitive look.  
“Hi,” Sherlock said and smiled his best fake smile, hoping to gain entrance into the house.  
“Aren’t you the detective that jumped off a roof?” Clara asked nonchalantly, leaning into the camera. Sherlock’s smile faded.  
“I’m looking for the Doctor,” he said clearly, going straight to the point.  
“Doctor who?” Clara eyed the man on the screen.  
“Can I come in?”  
“I don’t know, are you going to die again?”  
“That would be extremely unlikely.”  
“Alright then.” The screen turned off for a moment before the door opened. Sherlock turned and walked into the house. After the door had closed behind him, Clara faced him.  
“What do you want with the Doctor?” she asked him now that they were alone.  
“Who is he?” he inquired.  
“Well, he’s an alien. He’s like, I don’t know, 1000 something years old.”  
“Impossible.”  
“It’s not impossible. What’s impossible is how you survived that fall from the hospital roof.”  
“I did not jump from a hospital roof.”  
“Well, you could.”  
“I wouldn’t.” It was silent for a moment before a loud noise was heard outside. Sherlock peered out the window before being pulled into another room.  
“Stay here,” Clara ordered sternly before leaving him. He furrowed his brow but reluctantly stood in his place.  
Meanwhile, the TARDIS had vaguely appeared on the street, fading into view before taking solid shape. The door pulled open from the inside, revealing the Doctor in his purple suit.  
“Clara?” he called out to his companion, searching for her familiar brown hair. The door from her house swung open as Clara stood in the doorway. The Doctor immediately noticed the worry in her face as he ran away from the box to approach her figure. She closed the door so the detective inside couldn’t hear the conversation that was bound to happen.  
“Doctor,” she started as he reached her. “I may have accidentally told someone that they were going to die.”  
“Why?” he asked incredulously. “Why would you do that?”  
“I don’t know! I thought it had already happened, but apparently, I was wrong!”  
“Who was it?”  
“Sherlock Holmes.” The Doctor looked completely troubled at this notion, knowing full well what was to happen.  
“Is he inside your house?” he asked quickly. Clara nodded in response. He pushed past her and opened the door to walk inside. He looked round before spotting the tousled mess of curls on the detective’s head in the kitchen. He walked slowly, bowing his head and peeking from behind his drooping hair. Sherlock turned his head, and had to do a double-take when he saw the man before him.  
“Is it you, Doctor?” he asked as he turned his body to face him.  
“Yes, and I’m sorry,” the Doctor replied sadly. “But she is right.”  
“Yes, she must be.”  
“No, I mean it. You will die, Sherlock.”  
“When?” The Doctor stepped forward and raised his head.  
“When the final problem arises.”


End file.
